Gorelust's Ascension
by Konrad Curze
Summary: Gorelust and his small host of Clanrats are charged with roughing up a city before an invasion, but when the invasion commences, a tragic accident occurs. Will Gorelust be up to the challenge or will his Skaven bred survival instincts take over?


Author's note: I started reading into Skaven at work and noticed there werent a whole lot of short's from their POV so I'd decided to write this tiny thing. I'm new to the race (customs, weapons, ranks, speech, ect) but I did the best I could with what Knowledge I was able to collect here on the work computers (as much information is restricted) and gave to you my very own selfish and vicious character chain in the world of the Skaven. Do tell me how off it is.

-Konrad

"Away-away! The man-things are thirsty for flesh!"  
Gorelust the Warlock Engineer and his band of rag-tag Verminkin rushed through the citadel as though the very Thirteen and The Great Horned One were whipping behind them, fleeing the rush of humanity that flooded into the city after the rat-men's initial push.  
"Greeneye, Morglorg, feast your warp stone and slow them! I will not lose a host, Warlord Rikkytten will wear my tail for a garment!"  
The two apprentice Warlock Engineers skidded to a sharp halt and turned to face the rushing mass of men at their tails and, feasting upon their warp stone, lifted their staves high into the air and emitted a high-pitched squeal. The resulting effects saw to the destruction of a near by tower, a chain of green magic bursting from its base as the stone work began to crumple onto the human mass beneath it.  
"Quick-quick, run Skaven flee!" Gorelust shouted at his precious troops, almost as valuable as gold as far as he was concerned. The Warlord gave them to him, and he would not waste what the Warlord gave, not until the price was right.  
"Skaven! After the gates, turn and fight-fight and Kill! We will gut the man-things and please the Warlord, yes-yes!"  
The gates were approaching fast and the Humans had recovered from the dark magic distraction, charging after the rats with renewed anger and bloodlust.  
The Skaven had entered the city by digging up through the sewers, erupting into the town square by the hundreds and slaying every civilian and lone guard in sight. However after that initial carnage and small victory, the city guard was able to rally together and push back the rat men, cutting off their escape through the sewers. However, unbeknownst to the humans a much larger host of Skaven under the Warlord Rikkytten of Clan Skryre had burrowed their way to the city gates using the beasts loaned from Clan Moulder, and there they lay in wait.  
"Only a little further, minions! Go-go, run my kin, our Lord and Master awaits at the gates, scurry!"  
As they ran through the entrance and into the fields in front of the city, arrows and men followed a heated pursuit, Gorelust adjusted his bug-eyed goggles and turned a dial on his spiked helmet and the jezzail on his back whined with other-worldly pressure. He un slung his weapon and turned a number of knobs and dials until the weapon began to emit a green haze from the barrel. Popping a warpstone in his mouth, he turned to his apprentices.  
"Morglorg, Greeneye, fire the jezzail, fire-fire!"  
They repeated what their master had, and as one they fired off their other worldly and unpredictable weaponry. Gorelust's first two shots hit home into the ranks of the pursuing man-things, sending massive fountains of green mist into the air and bursting the men inside of the clouds to nothingness. Shots from the other two Skaven mad-rats went wild and into the towers and walls around the outside of the city, causing rubble to fall into the enemy ranks, Gorelust turned to shout an angry order at Greeneye but was knocked to the ground by a massive jade-green explosion covering the ground where his apprentice used to be. Rolling his eyes he hefted his own deadly weapon and fired it again (after adjusting more of the dials to avoid a similar fate) into the disoriented mass of humanity that pursued his army.  
As the Skaven-host were driven further into the fields outlying the city, the man-things were blindly charging out after them, enraged at the slaughter of the fair citizens and destruction of such property, then the ground gave way. The earth erupted like a small volcano as dozens of large monstrous rat-ogres burrowed out of the earth, cutting the men off from Gorelust's host in the screeching squeaking mass horde of clan skryre. Sporting the most arcane and volatile technologies of magic and science combined, they sprouted like weeds from the earth and began the destruction of the human host.  
"All warp magic shoot! Fast! Make them bleed-blood like pusrats!" Shouted Warlord Rikkytten.  
Warplock pistols and other odd weapons began to hum, and hairs on the Skaven backs stood ramrod straight into the air, pressure filled the space around Gorelust's clanrats and his ears began to pop loudly in protest.  
WHIEEEEEEEEEE-ZIP-TAT!  
WHIEEEEEEEEEE-ZIP-ZIP-TAT-TAT!  
The weapons discharge was immense, green energy spraying over the human lines forming up to repel the new threat. Human screams and wails of raw pain could be heard deep inside the city, mothers covered infants ears and young men shook with anger at the sounds of their fathers agony.  
A large cluster of Skaven emerged from a hole in the ruined earth rolling a large green orb onto the fields of battle. Two Warlock Engineers leapt onto the orb and were adjusting dials, equalizing levels of disaster and chaos, one began screeching at the other and a small fight broke out between them, clawing and biting and squeaking and hissing, pointing frantically at readouts and other dials. One Engineer pulled out his warplock pistol and was brandishing it about the Skaven around him, shouting at the other Engineer and warning his underlings to keep in line. The Engineer with the magically unstable pistol turned in response to a valve blowing in the back of the orb, spraying more green mist all over the clanrats supporting it and burning the flesh off their faces. Both engineers shouted at one another and jumped at the opportunity to fix it, pulling tools out of chest-packs of their underlings screwing and wrenching, attempting to keep the orb together.  
Rikkytten jerked his head in their direction and shouted something in queakish, and gestured to his war-throne. The clanrats rolled the orb toward the Warlords throne with the engineers in close tow, and leaping from his iron chair, Rikkytten landed on the back of the massive pulpit and began stomping down repeatedly on a latch in the back. As one the war-throne began to shake violently and transform, a massive cast iron cannon forced its way out of the maw's of the war-throne and settled at the head of the army.  
"My brothers my Skaven! This marks a new age, an age where the Men-things die, and the Skaven thrive-thrive! We will bombard them with warp essence and make their women scream like skinned rats!" Shouted the maddened Warlord before waving the clanrats over with the orb. The Warlocks stuffed the bomb into the cannon and with obvious excitement leapt up onto it with Rikkytten, waiting to fire the weapon of destruction.  
Gorelust stood from a distance and watched with his host of clanrats, surrounded by his small cohort of 8 elite Stormvermin as the cannon was primed and prepared. One of the Warlock's was dancing on the cannon while the other prepared to fire it, laughing maniacally. Light touched to a wick and in an instant the world was a green sun, humming and vaporizing everything it touched. Gorelust unshielded his eyes as the blast went down and saw nothing but carnage before him, a great crater was dug where his Warlord and former master had been, along with the insane Warlock Engineers and a portion of the Skaven war host of Clan Skryre. Smiling as he wiped blood off his shrapnel spattered face, he realized he was one of a few surviving Warlock Engineers in this strand of clan skryre. And turning behind him he glared at his final remaining apprentice before blasting Morglorg through the cranium with his warplock pistol, securing his seat of power.  
The Skaven marched to a massive rat ogre and leapt onto its back, the creature roared in an unfamiliar protest to his rider but Gorelust bit hard into its ear, silencing the beast.  
"Skaven-Rats, Rat-Kin! It seem's the Warlord put his filthy trust into incompetent maniacs! I will rule-rule! I will lead! To me you follow and to me you DIE! Slay the man-things! Make soup of their entrails and steaks of their flanks! For Clan Skryre and the Great Horned Rat!"  
Gorelust rode the beast awkwardly and, building speed, charged towards the increasing mass of Empire soldiers standing ground in front of the gates to the city, screeching as loudly as he could. Drool dripped from between his rotted teeth and he held his blade high in the air before pointing it towards the human lines. The army seemingly confused staggered together and formed a line, brandishing sword spear and shield. Clanrats and slaves moving to the front line with the Stormvermin in tow, ignoring Gorelust's ad hoc maneuver of leading a skaven army from the front.

The Rat Ogre met the human opposition head on and without fear, toting his new master who slashed, stabbed and blasted with his warplock pistol. The rushing army of Clanrats slammed into the Humans shortly thereafter and Gorelust's remaining forces chopped and bit into their enemies with a resolve rarely seen in Skaven society. Without their well known Warlord and a host of enemies ready to gut them, it was more survival instinct that kicked into their souls rather than bravery filling their hearts. The armies clashed in a colossal battle that lasted through the night and into the next day, as skaven and man alike fought for either riches or for honor, to take land or to defend it. The battle is a tale to be told in another log, a tale of blood and violence, courage, deceit and bravery, both sides displaying their core emotion. This story is meant to be a short, helpful tale of how our Warlord and brave leader Gorelust happened upon his leadership and rank within the clans under Skryre, and there should be many more to come in the aftermath. This marks the age of the Skaven.

No humans survived during the making of this short.


End file.
